Cor et Anima
by Silver-Snow-77
Summary: HDM/DGM crossover AU. Time moves ever onwards, leaving only scars and memories by which to recall what we have lost and what we have gained in turn. Whether the loss was worth the gains can only be measured in the twilight of death, for then the journey of life has come to its final conclusion and memories are laid to rest. Will contain Yullen, Lavilena, and other pairings.


**Hello. I've been kept very busy as of late, which is honestly the norm. College, issues at home, a friend with severe medical issues, dealing with illness myself, finals, and getting my wisdom teeth removed made for a stressful, exhausting, and worrying month. I am probably never going to be much of a regular updater, and the fact that Fanfiction is essentially a form of entertainment and skill honing for me means that it comes after my duties. My health, school, family, and friends have to come first, and the fact that I had people harass me about appearing so infrequently was more than a little annoying. I'm very grateful that most of you are so patient, though, and that you find my work to be interesting and entertaining.**

**I started this fic more than a year ago, and originally it had nothing to do with Yullen Week. However, I later realized that some of the decided themes of different sections (now chapters of the story) lined up with several of the finalized themes, and figured "Why not?" It isn't the most timely, but I just recovered from being drugged to the gills after getting my wisdom teeth removed, so whatever. This crossover universe is a steampunk-heavy and somewhat gothic (genre, not fashion and culture) mesh of late Victorian and Edwardian time, as DGM seems to be set in the early 1890s and HDM starts in an alternative universe version of pre-War Europe, and while it is not an entirely accurate representation, it has prominent echoes of its origins.**

**Trigger warnings: spoiler warning for Alma Arc and beyond, spoilers in general for anyone not caught up with the series. Also, this story is rated M for a reason. Sex is involved, as are romantic pairings of homosexual and heterosexual nature, but the explicit chapters will be on tumblr and AO3. Primarily, the reason behind the rating is due to violence and disturbing themes present in the story. Just as in DGM and the His Dark Materials series, there will be death, murder, genocide, semi-explicit violence and gore, human experimentation, child abuse and neglect, mentions of social class warfare, racism, transphobia, homophobia, and misogyny. I will add additional chapter warnings if needed. All pairings are decided, and the length and ending are set as well.**

**I do not own either DGM or His Dark Materials, they belong to Katsura Hoshino and Phillip Pullman respectively.**

**Prologue: Moments of Halcyon**

_"Childhood is not from birth to a certain age and at a certain age the child is grown, and puts away childish things. Childhood is the kingdom where nobody dies." -Edna St. Vincent Millay_

In the crimson light of a descending twilight, a quartet of figures traveled together down an empty road, heading towards a city that glowed with light from lamps and candles in the dimness of spreading shadows. They moved forward in tandem, three on the ground and the fourth in the air above, taking the form of a small bird and soaring through the air meters above before diving down once more, shifting shape into a puppy that plodded alongside the other three. By the time that the companions reached a derelict little inn near the outskirts of the city, the sun had ben entirely hidden behind distant mountains and the skies had faded from red into violet and indigo.

After three years of traveling together, they had a routine established. The man and his daemon waited while the child asked for a room for his sick father and the man handed the money to the innkeeper's wife after the boy had assured her sympathy and wheedled food and drink out of her, his daemon turning to a small kitten that fluffed up her fur and looked as small and helpless as possible. The man and the large otter stayed quiet but cheerful, their haggard appearance spoke for itself, and in minutes the four of them were in a small room, the bed small and mattress thin but they had warm cider with bread and cheese that the two humans shared because daemons didn't need to eat, and they settled down to rest.

"Allen, do you remember?" The man asked, taking off his ever-present top hat, more grey than black but still in good condition after the years.

"Remember what, Mana?" The child looked up from where he was playing with his daemon in her ermine form, grey eyes wide in his pale, dirt-smudged face.

"Our secret language, of course! Let's practice," he said, pulling out a charred stick and a scrap of newspaper. Allen settled down beside Mana, and slowly drew each of the strange symbols that made up the alphabet they created together, their special secret that Mana loved so much. Adelaide laughed as Gemma flicked forms again, and Mana absently stroked the sleek head of his otter daemon, cleaning away dirt that clung to her fur and watching Allen. Gemma corrected him when he drew the shape for 'M' incorrectly, and the two had a minor argument consistent entirely of them snarking at each other and playfully intentioned swats.

After Allen had finished the alphabet and sung their special song with Gemma, Mana and Adelaide read them a story out of a penny dreadful before they settled down for the night, looking forward to the next day with eager, childish delight. After all, the next day was their birthday, Christmas Day, and there would be a morning performance for extra money before exchanging presents! What better way to celebrate their tenth birthday than with their beloved parental figures?

If Allen and Gemma had known just what would befall their little family group come morning, they would have stayed inside and persuaded Mana and Adelaide to stay with them. They would be happy together, safe and warm and rested so that they could move on the next day and avoid the encroaching machinations of Fate, the cold shroud of Death that lay in wait. But the hands of the clock ticked onwards, and the mortal ignorance of future tragedies allowed them a peaceful sleep free from nightmares of what was to come.

o—O—o

_Two children curled together in a spartan room, keeping as warm and comfortable as they could with their daemons huddled on either side of them beneath the thin blanket, transformed into wolves with thick coats of fur that retained heat and soothed the two boys with their softness. They had dragged their futons together to withstand winter's cold breath as it seeped into the small stone room, the combined warmth of their huddled forms keeping them from shivering. With their injuries itching as they mended beneath stained bandaging, they lay silent and still, taking comfort in the knowledge that they were together, safe from the brutal testing that had hurt them for months on end until morning came and the scientists who watched them blankly with clipboards in hand would enter and take them away from their temporary haven._

_"Hey Yuu..." One said, shifting slightly as he moved his legs further up. The second child groaned lowly in response, his voice muffled by the fur of his daemon and the tendrils of exhaustion that wrapped themselves around his being._

_"Kanda, idiot." His companion mumbled lowly, on the very brink of sleep and less than pleased at being dragged back to consciousness._

_"Fine, Kan-da. Kanda. Kanda!" The child was persistent, going so far as to lightly tug at a strand of the other boy's long black hair._

_"What, Alma?" He mumbled, his eyes still closed as he frowned in annoyance._

_"I was wondering...what were you dreaming about last night? You were crying in your sleep, but you didn't look sad or hurt. It was...odd." The child rolled over slightly, his head resting on his friend's shoulder. Kanda's eyes snapped open, blue irises almost entirely lost in wide black pupils. He frowned, trying to remember why he was so startled by the question, but only the whisper of a voice and the faint scent of flowers came to mind. He could see his friend from the corner of his eye, rust-colored eyes wide and short hair tousled into a feathery mess, but at the same time the shadowed features of a strange woman seemed to overlay his friend's face. Coffee-brown locks turned longer and lightened to warm chocolate, the large facial scar erased to leave the bridge of the upturned nose clear and unfettered, eyes that he somehow knew were large and expressive, yet could not make out clearly, curved pink lips opening and saying his _name_—_

_"It doesn't matter." He snapped, and Alma huffed, turning back to his daemon, who rolled his eyes and ignored him. The brunette turned back around and poked the blue-eyed boy. "No. Shut up, stop, and lie down."_

_"But Yuu, I want to know! Please?" Alma begged, sitting up and bouncing in place. The black-haired boy growled, kicking his friend in the leg._

_"I said no, damn you! And don't call me that!" He sighed in exasperation, wanting nothing more than to settle down and sleep in that moment. "Just go to sleep, idiot."_

_"No fair, Kanda." The brown haired boy rested his chin on his knees, wrapping his arms around himself as he pouted._

_"We really should be sleeping, Alma. There's something big happening tomorrow, we need the rest to be ready." He scolded, nudging the excitable child with his muzzle. Alma extracted a hand and swatted the daemon on the head._

_"Don't be a spoilsport, Herme."_

_"Shut up already!" Kanda's daemon snarled, glaring at the two of them as fiercely as she could manage._

_"No need to be so mad, Miyako! Meanie, I was just curious, and I'm too tired to sleep," Alma complained. He rolled over on top of Kanda, who groaned and elbowed him._

_"That makes no sense. Just leave it, I don't remember what the dream was about anyway."_

_"Fine." Alma rolled over again so that they were back to back, and the two boys were left in silence once more._

Kanda woke abruptly, sitting up so fast that he knocked the pillow off of his bed and onto Miyako's head. The presence of Alma had been strong in the dream—no, the _memory_, memory of the last night they spent before _that_ day—and he could almost feel the warmth of his friend at his side. He angrily wiped it away, wiping his hand on the soft white sheets of the inn bedroom. He hated him for what he had done, his gut roiled with anger and betrayal, but he missed him all the more.

Alma was always smiling, always laughing, warm and bright in the darkness of their shared childhood, and without him the world was cold. Kanda had not smiled since the day Alma died, and he felt as though he had lost the ability. The persistent brat that always annoyed him was dead, gone, no more stupid jokes and wrestling until they were both bruised and bloody and laughing on the floor, no more food slathered in mayonnaise or cuddling together with their daemons after a day of brutal tests and arguing in the middle of the night.

Miyako nudged his shoulder with her head, a deep rumbling noise echoing in her throat. The beautiful tigress had settled on that day, he didn't know if it was before, during, or after the bloody fight to the death that she stopped changing forms, blue and black fur soaked through with red blood and stagnant water that froze into disgusting pink slush. What he did remember was how Hermenegildo had settled, a sleek black-and-white salamander that had bled and writhed before stilling and fading into golden dust under the horrified eyes of Miyako. Gone forever, lost and broken and faded into nothingness all because of them, because they chose to live.

Alma had smiled, coughing up blood that trailed down his neck and over Kanda's fingers, joining the red, _red, **red, RED**_ that pooled on the floor and stained skin and stone, _too much no no no please no not him no don't die I need you we need you our friends our only friends **STOPTHISPLEASENOHEALDON'TDIEPLEASEHERMEALMANO**_. It wasn't real, it was a nightmare and he would wake up to see Alma staring at him with a concerned expression, asking what he was dreaming about, Herme by his side flitting from form to form in his usual energetic manner.

But it was real. Alma and Herme were gone, dead, _you killed them you **murderers** but they were going to kill us and they were gone they were angry and they killed everyone wewantedtolivewantedtofindthemwantedtoleaveandfindourfreedom_. There was nothing they could do, Kanda and Miyako both were alive, left behind lost and hurt and confused and betrayed. Not even ghosts remained, and no one else understood. Everyone else had family, had friends, no one else grew up in a cold, lonely lab with people with empty smiles who hurt them. And they hated it.

Gone forever was that bond, the times where they could laugh, wrestle, and play, where they could act like the children they were supposed to be instead of the test subjects they were treated like. Together, Kanda and Miyako had left that cold place with it's memories of blood and pain, but the laughter and screams of their friends still echoed in their ears after three years that had been spent in the world outside the Sixth Laboratory, two at Headquarters and this past year traveling with the weird old man and his nosy, mothering wolf daemon. They wanted to care for them, and for the two other apprentices and their daemons, but when would they be able to trust again after the horrors they lived through?

The closest people the two of them had to friends were Lenalee and Xiang, the small girl who had been stolen away and forced to undergo and witness terrifying ordeals from a young age and the flighty daemon that clung to her side constantly, even when he took a flying form. But once her brother had come to become the Supervisor and stopped the tests and experiments, they had other people too. Not that Kanda and Miyako truly wished that Komui and Min had stayed in China, because that would be cruel to the siblings, and without them the Order would the same hell it had been, if not worse. They were merely envious, as it was obvious that the siblings and their daemons had been broken and miserable apart, and with Alma gone, they understood, and seeing them smiling and happy together caused an ache deep inside.

The memories were all that remained, no scars left as proof of that day or two years before it. All they had was each other and the dreams, of Alma and Herme, of the mysterious woman and her shapeless daemon. And as Kanda and Miyako lay quiet and still in the witching hour, the faintest of murmurs in _their_ voices could be heard, soft and lilting with hints of mischief and warmth.

**That's it for today. The next chapter is set at their canon ages. If you can't tell, Allen is nine going on ten here, Kanda and Alma were nine-ish in the flashback and Kanda is currently shown as thirteen.**

**Also- new daemons are introduced in every chapter. There is symbolism involved in the settled form of every daemon, and their name meanings and origins are significant as well, at least for named characters and daemons. If you can tell me one or more of the qualities in the animal form of at least one daemon per chapter for all sixteen chapters, you can request a oneshot fic from me. If you can identify the meanings, origins, and significance of at least one daemon name per chapter, then you get an art request.**

**Ciao, and please review.**


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